My father and I had fallen out following an acerbic
argument. Afterwards, I walked into a small auditorium where perhaps 30-40
people were gathered. My father also walked in and he sat down in a corner over
to my left. Myself, I walked right up to the front row and watched as different
people took turns playing music.

Finally Neil Young (around
40 years old) walked out with his guitar, sat on a stool right in front of me,
about a meter away, and began playing. As he strummed his guitar, I began moving
my fingers over a pale-blue balloon which I was holding in both hands. The most
exquisite notes were emitted from the balloon. I moved the fingers of my left
hand in an intricate fashion almost as if I were playing a guitar and I was able
to produce notes like I had never heard before.

As I played along with
Young, I thought he might be offended by my joining in, but he moved even closer
to me. Obviously he wanted me to continue. As we played, the lyrics from the
songs he was singing began appearing on my balloon like a teleprompter and I
began to softly sing them. Young caught onto my singing and he moved his
microphone closer to my face. Realizing he wanted me to sing with him, I did so.
The sound of our voices together was simply beautiful. I could hardly believe I
was singing with Neil Young.

The audience seemed to be
enjoying the music. When we finished playing, everyone jumped up and started
hugging each other. Young and I put our arms around each other and hugged each
other tightly. When we backed away from each other, I saw someone in the
audience whom I knew and I blurted, "I was just singing with Neil Young!"

I reflected that
Young was my second favorite musician after Bob Dylan.

I looked for my father. I
thought he must be at least a little impressed. But I did not see him. Apparently
he had left, so I did not know what he had thought.